Phil's Cul-De-Sac Turf War
by GhettoPorch
Summary: Three new faces intend to change the Cul-De-Sac for better or worse. Our familiar cast of Cul-De-Sac kids must pick a side and fight a war for survival. No one leaves, but who can stay? Also, some RolfxMarie


It was a particularly warm Saturday in the early stages of summer. The heat was all the more unbearable considering that Phil, Max, and Zack had been cramped together in the family Cavalier since their early start at 6 AM. Phil had just wanted to take his two sons on vacation, but he was going to get more out of this little trip than he ever bargained for. Phil was a man in his mid-40's, with a gruff facial stubble that was neither too long nor too short. His age didn't really show if you didn't take into account the salt and pepper color of his beard or the ever growing bald spot on his head. Phil's green eyes shown brighter as usual, pupils dilated as a side effect of the shroomheads that he had devoured to stay awake on the road. "So, boys, are you ready for the trip of a lifetime?" he asked, with a bit of anxiousness in his voice.

"Yes, father," Zack responded, "it was so nice of you to take us out here. It makes all that hard work to acquire first chair in trumpet all the more worth it." Zack and his father had quite the troubled past. If anything, Zack was incredibly happy just to have his father proud of him.

"What the heyall are you talking about Zack? Why do you always have to try and make it about yourself? Nobody gives a shit about your horn blowing skills; this vacation is about Maxwell!" Phil lashed out at his son. There was something about the way he said "what the hell". It just hurt Zack's feeling that much more. Every insult was like a bee sting to his ego that couldn't be treated.

"Yea, Zack! Didn't you hear? I got a "C" on my spelling test!" It was a rare occasion that Max chimed in with his opinions, but when he did, it was extremely annoying to Zack. Zack's little brother never had nothing important to say, all he ever did was snitch on him and grin about it with his disgusting buck teeth. The worst part was that Phil was always on Max's side, no matter what the situation was.

"You're lucky we even let you come along with us! The only reason I even let your sorry little ass tag along was because the idea of letting you be home alone for a whole weekend makes me so sick to my stomach that I could get an ulcer! Now shut your trap and go back to playing your Nintendo!" Phil's hyper, shroomed up mood was only helped by the fact that he was blaring DMX through his speakers. He let out a hearty belly laugh as he ran his fourth stop sign of the day. The smile on his face quickly turned to a frown when he looked down at the dashboard. "Damnit! We are almost on empty!"

Phil glanced around for signs, and he eventually found an exit that could lead him to a gas station. This was an odd area to stop, as there were no rest stops or restaurants, only the one gas station, titled "Dusty's Grease and Lube". Phil saw a chunky young man sitting next to the sign, smoking a cigarette. There was something odd about this man. His pudgy baby face only accentuated his crooked, perverse smile. His safari hat and his foot-long pit stains also served as indicators that this boy wasn't quite normal. "Welcome to Dusty's Grease and Lube, how may I be of assistance to you?" he inquired in a scratchy, hickish voice.

"I just need a fill up, and a six pack of beer, please!" Phil shot back.

"Ah, yes. Just head on into the shack, they'll be on the shelf to the right. Just leave ten bucks on the counter." Phil and Max headed into the shack, leaving Zack behind in the car. Zack tried to continue playing his Nintendo DS and ignore the greasy young man putting gas in his car. Occasionally, Zack would look up and take a peak. At one point, the man dropped an oil canister and bent over for what seemed like quite a while. Part of Zack felt suspicious, but the other part couldn't care less about what happened to him, let alone the rest of his dysfunctional family.

Finally, Phil came back, carrying Max with one hand and the six pack with the other. Before Phil could set Max down, the greasy man opened Phil's car door as a gesture of kindness. "Thanks for the help, boy. Keep doing what you do." Phil said to the man.

"No problem, sir. You can call me Dusty."

Phil saw all the kindness and hospitality as a tad bit overwhelming, but he chose to ignore it and left the gas station to resume his trip. He looked back to break the ice with his kids. "Hey Maxwell, want a beer?" His son quickly shook his head, obviously finding Phil's kind gesture to be quite icky. "What about you, Zack?" Phil extended a beer to his less loved son, but Zack didn't budge. Phil, ignoring Zack's lack of interest, yanked the alcoholic beverage away, saying "Well you ain't getting one!" Phil was the only one laughing this time. By this time, the sun was beginning to go down. The boys were quite tired, and they fell asleep soon after. Phil was contemplating in his mind how he managed to go so wrong with his geeky son Zack when he noticed that the gas tank was empty yet again.

"WHAT THE HEYALL!" Phil screamed to the stars. Immediately, Max and Zack snapped back into consciousness. "I JUST GOT GAS AN HOUR AGO!" By this point, the car had moved to a stop, Phil and his kids now stuck in the middle of nowhere. While Zack and Max sat in the grass, their angered father paced back and forth, swearing and muttering to himself.

"Well, maybe the…"

"SHUT UP ZACK!" Phil paused for a moment, taking time to observe the frightened look on his eldest sons face. "I just don't understand." Phil had settled down now, and this defeat had led him to being the calmest that he'd been all day. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Phil finally spoke up. "We need to work together and push the car to the nearest town. C'mon, Zack."

"What about him?" Zack pointed over at his spoiled younger brother.

"Maxwell needs his rest, let him sleep in the car."

"While we push it?"

"Yes, while we push it! Now stop being such a little bitch and let's find somewhere to sleep!" With that, Phil and his lesser loved son began their journey. Luckily, they found a street sign that read Next Exit: Peach Creek.


End file.
